


You're the light that lifts me higher

by Lifeisruined



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Tony finds steve in the ice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 16:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13639596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lifeisruined/pseuds/Lifeisruined
Summary: Tony didn’t mean for this to happen, okay? This was not his intent. He did not want this. He had every intention of handing the information over to Fury, to forget this ever happened, but he picks up the phone to call Fury and just…stops. He puts his phone down, goes to work on his suit, and when Pepper comes by with papers for him to sign, he finds himself blurting out that he’s gonna be out of town for a few days.





	You're the light that lifts me higher

Tony didn’t mean for this to happen, okay? This was not his intent. He did not want this. He had every intention of handing the information over to Fury, to forget this ever happened, but he picks up the phone to call Fury and just…stops. He puts his phone down, goes to work on his suit, and when Pepper comes by with papers for him to sign, he finds himself blurting out that he’s gonna be out of town for a few days.

Pepper narrows her eyes. “Out of town where?”

Tony narrows his eyes back at her. “Not here.” She opens her mouth, and he cuts her off. “Pep, please. I promise there won’t be a scandal or another kidnapping. I just need to do something, okay?”

She stares at him for a long moment. Then she slides the papers toward him. “Sign these, please.” She doesn’t say anything while he signs, waiting until the papers are in her hand before she hesitates, says, “You deserve a vacation, Tony.”

He wants to tell her the truth, but he doesn’t want her to know. If this all goes to hell, if Fury decides to strike his ass down, he doesn’t want anybody to go down with him. He thinks Pepper deserves that much. “Thanks, Pepper.” He brightens. “And if you miss me—”

“Goodbye, Tony.” She’s smiling, though, and Tony can’t help but smile back at her. As she’s leaving, already calling somebody, and he picks up his phone again. He needs to call Fury. He shouldn’t do this.

It starts like this: There’s a man named Philip Reeves who worked with Howard Stark in the ‘60s and early ‘70s. Reeves was part of the team that looked for the lost Captain America, and, when Howard met Maria and had Tony, he and Howard went their separate ways. Howard wanted to focus on his inventions, on Stark Industries. Reeves was invested in trying to find Captain America. Reeves and Howard never really spoke again. Tony didn’t even know Reeves existed until last week. Last week, Reeves called him out of the blue, asking to meet. At the meeting, Reeves shared his research, how the team was officially disbanded in the ‘90s, and then he said, “We never stopped looking. I haven’t gone on any searches in years, I’m too old now, but I received this email a few days ago.”

The email claimed to know where Captain America’s body was located. Exact coordinates.

“We don’t have any funding,” Reeves explained, “and I’m not asking for any, Mr. Stark. I just want someone to go look. I know you have sources. Before you make any decisions, please think about Steve Rogers. Don’t you think he deserves something for his service?”

And what was Tony supposed to say to that? So what he said instead was, “I’ll handle it.”

So here Tony is now. Boarding his plane to fly to the coordinates. Boarding his plane to fly to find Captain America’s body. To find the body of the man who dominated his father’s love and attention. Tony shouldn’t be doing this. He grew up first idolizing Captain America and then hating his guts.

But all Tony can think about is what Reeves said, how Steve Rogers deserve a proper burial, how all the people still alive who knew Steve Rogers deserve some closure. And Tony isn’t sure he’ll get that if Fury sends his goons to find him.

Tony isn’t even sure he’ll find Captain America.

 

Tony finds Captain America. Tony spends two days searching through ice and snow, finding nothing, and he’s ready to give up, pretend this entire event never happened, when he sees something. He squints because it looks sort of red, but honestly, at this point, it’s entirely possible he’s hallucinating. Part of him hopes he is. He isn’t sure he wants to be the one who finds Captain America’s body.

Except he doesn’t find the body of Captain America. No, he finds Captain America _alive_. He digs him out of the ice, and, while he feels terrible about keeping him frozen, he doesn’t exactly have the resources to thaw him out in the middle of nowhere. He spends the entire flight back to Malibu thinking about Captain America. About Fury and SHIELD and what he’s going to do once he gets back to America. He still doesn’t trust Fury, he still isn’t sure Fury deserves to get his hands on Steve Rogers. Because that’s what this is about. Steve Rogers.

Captain America is a national hero, a war hero, a superhero, but Steve Rogers is a human being. He’s a brave man, heroic in his own right, and Tony understands that Steve is why Captain America is so great. And while Tony has his issues with Captain America, he has no issues with Steve Rogers.

Tony thaws him out, checks his vitals, makes sure everything is okay (and it is; the serum truly is a scientific miracle), and then sets him up in a guest room. He doesn’t tell anyone, despite how much he wants to tell Pepper.

He does call Reeves, though. Reeves comes by, stares at the sleeping man for almost two hours without moving, and when Tony asks, he agrees to not tell anyone. He rejects the money Tony offers, claiming the only thing he truly wants is to tell his team. “It’s our life’s work, Mr. Stark,” he says. “We’ll sign something, if you want, but this—this is…”

“How many people?”

“Just three. Including me. Not many people believed in us, you know. After Howard gave up, people decided to focus on preserving his memory rather than his body. No one believed we’d find him.”

Tony still can’t believe it. He shakes his head. “Yeah. Yeah, you can tell your team. Just right now, I think it’s in his best interest to be kept a secret.”

 

Okay, so, Tony forgets he has a sleeping super-soldier in one of his guest rooms. He works on his projects, his Iron Man suit, whatever Pepper asks of him. When he remembers, he checks in on Steve, makes sure everything is still good, before he goes back to work.

It’s two weeks later, Tony’s working on another suit prototype, when he hears a loud thump. He freezes, unsure if he actually heard a noise or if he’s too tired, and when he hears another thump, he asks, “J, what’s going on?”

“It seems Captain Rogers is awake,” JARVIS replies.

“Oh.” Tony…doesn’t know what to do with that. He just kind of sits there, wrench in hand, unsure if he should go find Steve. He doesn’t even know what he’d say. Steve doesn’t know him. He’s just some stranger.

“It seems that’s he confused and scared,” JARVIS continues.

Okay. Tony doesn’t know how to deal with people other than Rhodey and Pepper, but he hates seeing people upset. He leaves his workshop, following the noises, until he ends up in his kitchen. Steve’s standing there, staring at the microwave.

He doesn’t turn when Tony approaches. “Where am I?”

Tony stays in the doorway. “New York.”

“Okay.” Steve turns, finally, blue eyes narrowed, his body tense and rigid. “Where am I really? And don’t lie to me again.”

“I didn’t lie. You’re in New York.” Tony sees his mail on the counter, probably dropped off by Pepper. He nods toward the stack. “You can check.”

Steve reaches for the mail, eyes flickering back to Tony like he’s afraid to turn his back. He scans the mail, eyes widening. “Stark? Howard Stark?”

“My dad.”

Steve stares down at the letter, and it seems like all the tension leaves his body all at once. His frown disappears, and his expression becomes sad. Lost. And Tony’s read Howard’s notes, he knows all the results of the serum, so he knows Steve’s already connected the dots. He wants to reassure Steve that everything’s okay, but he lets him have this moment.

“You’re Howard’s son,” Steve says finally. “You look like him.”

Tony snorts. “That’s the worst thing anyone’s ever told me.”

“Is he here?” Steve glances at the microwave again. “Wherever here is?”

“No. No, I’m sorry. He and my mom died in a car crash over ten years ago.” Tony reaches out to take the envelope from his hand, placing it back on the stack. He doesn’t move any closer, doesn’t want to scare Steve any more. “I know this might be hard to hear, but it’s 2012. You were frozen for over seventy years.”

Steve stares at him, blue eyes wide. “But—how? I mean—the serum, I know.” His hands clench into fists. “Seventy years, you say?”

Tony nods.

“Who are you? Besides Howard’s son.”

“Anthony Stark. Tony. I found you in the ice.”

Steve’s nodding but clearly not hearing the words. He scrubs at his face. “Um, okay. So it’s 2012. What happened? Who won the war? Oh, God, what happened to Peggy and the Howling Commandos?”

Tony knows Steve lost his best friend shortly before he took the suicidal dive into the water. He knows Steve fully intended to die in that crash. He clears his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck. “First thing first. I’m going to introduce you to JARVIS.”

 

Tony sets Steve up in a guest room, and then he gives Steve all the readings and films he can find on Captain America and the legacy of the Howling Commandos and Peggy Carter (he may have hacked into SHIELD’s records, but that’s neither here nor there). Steve goes quiet when he sees Bucky Barnes’s file on top, thumbing the picture inside of a smiling Barnes, and when Tony tells him he can do this alone, it’s not gonna hurt Tony’s feelings, Steve thanks him and locks himself in his room for three days.

Tony asks JARVIS for check-ups, makes sure Steve hasn’t wasted away or offed himself, but other than that, he gives Steve his space. He continues to work on his suits, tweaks his bots, and whenever he remembers to eat, he has JARVIS let Steve know there’s food in the kitchen.

On the third day, Steve approaches Tony in the workshop. He looks upset and confused and like he hasn’t stopped crying in three days. He’s picking at his t-shirt, not looking at Tony, as he says, “Peggy’s still alive.”

And while Peggy helped found SHIELD, while she worked with Howard over the years, Tony never really met her. Tony, as he got older, suspected she only tolerated Howard because of his inventions. The last time Tony can remember seeing her, he was fifteen and about to head to MIT. Tony opens his mouth, but Steve continues before he can say anything.

“We were supposed to go dancing,” he says.

“I’m sorry,” is all Tony can say. “But, hey, um, if you want, we can go see her.”

Steve looks up at him, hope shining for the first time since he’s woken up. “Really?”

“Yeah, of course.” Tony will have to track her down, but that’s not an issue. “If that’s what you want.”

Steve nods. “I’d love that, Mr. Stark.” He looks sad again. “And the others? Their—their graves, I mean. I want to pay my respects.” He looks like he’s about to cry again, eyes watery, and Tony finds himself agreeing before he can even think about.

“Absolutely. Anything. It’s not a problem.”

Steve nods again, wiping at the stray tears, as he finally looks around the workshop. He’s still upset, but there’s an underlying amazement now. “I asked JARVIS about you,” he says. He shakes his head, lets out a whistle. “You’re amazing, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony.”

Steve nods, but he’s fiddling with some tools near him. “Iron Man? It’s amazing. I can’t help but think how the war would’ve gone if we’d had something like that. Won a lot sooner, huh? Probably lose a lot less, too.” He shakes his head, clearing his throat. He’s quiet for a while, messing with anything that’s within reach. Finally, he asks, in a small voice, “Why’d you save me?”

“Because you didn’t deserve to spend your life frozen in ice.”

“I was supposed to die,” Steve says. “I knew I was going to die.” He shakes his head again, wiping at his eyes. “I was ready to die.”

Tony’s heart drops. He knew that. Anyone who’s read the transaction between Steve and Peggy knows Steve was ready to die. The public glosses over that fact, tries to portray the crash as a heroic action rather than a suicide attempt. Just…hearing it out loud, from the man himself, is something else entirely. It leaves this heavy feeling in his chest, knowing that Steve went off the deep end when Barnes died. Right now, with everyone he knows and loves already dead, there’s no telling what he might do.

Tony takes a deep breath, wills away the feeling of dread. “Do you want to see it? The suit I mean?”

Steve doesn’t say anything for a long moment before shrugging.

Tony takes that as a yes. He puts the suit on, lets Steve stare in wonder, as he explains about the suit. Steve doesn’t say anything, only runs his fingers along the arm of the suit, hefts the helmet in his hands, as he listens. Tony trails off when he notices Steve’s stopped listening, staring at Dum-E.

“What’s that?” he asks, putting the helmet down. “Oh! There’s more!”

U’s there too, now, both of them beeping happily at Steve.

Tony rolls his eyes, steps out of the suit. “That’s Dum-E and U.”

Steve lets Dum-E pinch at his shirt. “You made them, right?” He laughs when U tries to push Dum-E out of the way so he can grab at Steve’s hand first when Steve reaches out to touch. “Wow, they’re swell.”

“They’re showing off for you,” Tony explains, “because they love attention.” He brushes off Dum-E’s claw when it reaches for him. Steve plays with the bots for a few minutes, smiling, and Tony can’t help but let out a sigh of relief because if Steve is smiling, that means there’s hope he won’t go completely off the rails. Tony says, “Are you hungry?”

Steve shrugs again. “Is food the same in 2012?”

“Food is more or less the same. Some of it anyway. There are more options now. We don’t boil everything anymore.”

“There are burgers still, right?”

“Of course. You want some? We can get it delivered if you don’t want to leave the house. Or we can go out. Show you the world. Whatever you want to do.”

“I want to go out,” Steve says firmly. He nods, like he’s reassuring himself. “I want to see how things have changed.”

“Okay. Great. I have to change first.” He lifts his grease covered hands. “It’ll be an hour at the most. Um, you can stay here with the bots or go back to your room. If you want, JARVIS can take you to the living room. Or the kitchen. You can have another staring contest with the microwave.”

Steve cocks his head to the side. “The what? Is that what that thing is?”

Tony smiles. “Yeah, Rogers. I’ll explain at lunch. Anything you want to know, I’ll explain.”

 

Steve doesn’t ask many questions, instead allowing Tony to point things out to him, and when their waitress lays a hamburger and fries in front of him along with a chocolate milkshake, he gets this excited expression on his face. He eagerly digs in, sighing happily when he tastes the burger.

“Been a while, huh?”

“Last time I had a hamburger was before I went to war,” Steve comments before he finishes the burger in two bites. He starts in on the fries. “Bucky and I would go to Frank’s whenever we had the money to spare.”

“Has it changed any?”

Steve shakes his head. “Hard to fuck up a burger. Can I get another?” When Tony nods (and Tony chooses to ignore the “fuck” because he knows Steve was in the army, there’s no way he’s as perfect as the world thinks he is, but honestly, Tony’s dying on the inside because a _national icon just cussed_ ), he asks the waitress for another burger and more fries before he sips on his milkshake. “This is different, though. I’m used to a frosty.” At Tony’s raised eyebrow, he explains, “Like this but with ice cream scoops in it. Sometimes my ma and Mrs. Barnes would give us a quarter to get one after school.”

Tony glances at his Coke. “I’m sure soda’s different. Want a taste?”

Steve nods, reaching for the glass. He takes a sip, nose scrunching. “Weird.” He slides the glass back to Tony, focusing on his milkshake. Tony makes a mental note to ask JARVIS to up the grocery supply to allow enough food to feed a super-soldier.

They spend the rest of the day driving around New York, Steve asking a million questions while sometimes offering his own stories about his life, and they end up bringing steaks home to eat. Tony rambles about anything that pops into his head (meaning he mostly talks about Iron Man and new technology). When Steve starts to look overwhelmed (on his third steak; seriously, Tony’s gonna run out of food in a week if he keeps this up), Tony pauses his talking. He says, “We’ll start small.”

“Small how?”

“Well, clothes. And anything you want. Books, music, movies, cars. You can buy anything online now. Or in person.”

“I don’t have any money.”

Tony shrugs. “That’s alright. Consider it a welcome home present.”

Steve narrows his eyes. “Why are you doing this? What’s in this for you?”

“Your lovely company.” At Steve’s look, he rolls his eyes and says, “Just accept the help. If you want, when you get money, you can pay me back.”

Steve stares at him some more before slowly nodding. He doesn’t say anything, though, just finishes his food. After dinner, when Tony asks if he wants to come back to the workshop, Steve begs off, saying he’s just gonna go to bed.

 

About a week later, when Tony startles awake around two am with a new idea, he stumbles out of his room to head down to his workshop, his mind racing a mile a minute. He’s in the elevator, leaning his head against the wall with his eyes closed, when JARVIS stops the elevator on the main floor. He squints at the hall. “J, what the fuck?” he mumbles.

The elevator doesn’t move, though, so Tony sighs and steps out. As he wanders down the hall, he sees a light on in the living room. Confused, he peeks around the corner, surprised to see Steve on the couch, pencil and sketchbook in hand.

A few days ago, Tony took him to see Peggy and the graves of the Howling Commandos. At each of their graves, he laid flowers down before spending some time lost in his thoughts. He left each site in tears, trying to hide his sobs. Peggy, though, he spent almost a full day talking to. He held it together for the visit, only shedding tears a couple times, but in the car outside the building, he broke down. Tony, unsure how to handle it, patted him on his back, letting him cry it out.

Since, Steve’s been distant. Understandably. He’s been quiet, hasn’t really left the house, and he’s spent a lot of time drawing or in the gym Tony told him he could use. Tony’s given him space, meaning he hasn’t really seen him all that much.

Tony stands there, just watching him, for a bit. Steve looks sad as he draws. And every time he pauses, he stares down at the page, as if trying to will it to come to life and speak to him. And Tony…well, Tony isn’t sure if he should go speak with him. He understands wanting to be left alone. He’s about to turn, head back to the elevator, when Steve looks up at him. They sit there, staring at each other, for a moment. Tony blinks, and Steve looks away.

Neither of them says anything.

Tony spins on his heel and marches back to the elevator. His first idea, the one that woke him up, is long gone, but a new one is forming. A better one. Tony’s actually excited about it.

It doesn’t escape him, as he works on his project, that this is exactly what Howard did.

 

Two nights later, it happens again. Except this time Tony isn’t surprised. No, he’s _hoping_ to find Steve in the living room. He’s down in the workshop, having nodded off at some point, when JARVIS informs him that Captain Rogers has been in the living room for almost an hour now.

Tony hurries upstairs, whipping around the corner to stand directly in front of Steve, who startles at seeing him so close.

“Hey, Tony,” he mumbles, hugging his sketchbook to his chest. “What’re you doing awake?”

“I can ask you the same thing,” Tony replies, “but I’m not because this is important. Come on.”

“Wait what? Where are we going?” Steve’s too dumbfounded to fight, lets Tony pull him to his feet, and he only gathers his sense to dig his heels in when they’re almost to the elevator. “Wait. Tony, wait!”

Tony doesn’t stop, keeps tugging at his hand. “Rogers, come _on_. This is important!”

“ _What’s_ important?”

“It’s a surprise.” Tony stops, finally, raising an eyebrow at Steve. As they’re standing there, having a staring contest, Tony can’t help but think about how pretty Steve is. Because, really, it’s unreal. He’s gorgeous. It’s unfair. No one should be allowed to have eyes that blue or a jaw like that. Well, at least Dad got one thing right.

Steve sighs. He waves his hand in defeat.

Tony smirks at him, tugs at him again. They ride down to Tony’s workshop, and when they get there, Tony whirls, suddenly self-conscious. “Okay, so, don’t feel obligated or anything. It was just…it doesn’t have to mean anything, okay?”

Steve nods, confused. Tony watches that look quickly turn from confusion to amazement.

Tony redid the Captain America suit. He’d planned on just improving Steve’s original suit, the one he was frozen in, but one look at the suit and Tony was tossing the thing to the side to rebuild from scratch.

“It’s better,” Tony says. “Bulletproof, lighter, easier to move in, not as, uh, constricting as tights. More comfortable. Harder to cut through, too.”

“Tony, this is amazing. But—”

“Don’t ask why. If you’re going to be Captain America again, you need to be better protected. I mean, if you want to be Captain America again. No one’s going to make you.”

“You’re Iron Man.” Steve glances at him, still messing with the suit. “The world still needs heroes, right? It might not be an enemy I’m familiar with, but I’m still going to help fight it.” Steve picks up his suit. “Can I put it on?”

Tony nods, gestures for him to go on.

Steve disappears out of the room, and he comes back suited up without the cowl. He’s happy, face bright, and Tony absently thinks he’ll do anything to keep that look on his face. He’s shifting, moving, and when he flexes, a part of Tony dies.

“I need the right materials,” Tony says, “but when I get them, I’m gonna work on the shield, too.”

“Where is it?”

“Oh, uh, here.” He searches through his mess, finds it buried underneath the original suit, and digs it out. He hands it over to Steve. “You look good, buddy.”

Steve smiles, rather shyly. He swings the shield a couple times, shy smile turning content. Tony lets him mess around for a while, pointing out everything the new suit is capable of, while he lets himself think about fighting with Steve, having Captain America at his back. It’s a nice thought. Something little Tony dreamed about.

Maybe he should let SHIELD know Captain America is alive and well. Before they see a man in his suit running around fighting villains and try to take him in. It’s not like any of this is Steve’s fault. He didn’t ask to be frozen for decades, for Tony to keep him a secret from the world.

Okay, so maybe Tony’s feeling guilty.

“I know this isn’t going to make everything better,” Tony says suddenly. He isn’t looking at Steve, twirling a screwdriver in his hands. “I mean, I know this must be hard. I’ve never been a human popsicle, so I can’t understand _exactly_ what you’re feeling, but I get it. There are some people that can tell you stories about my downward spirals.”

“The world goes on.”

Tony opens his mouth to argue, that Steve shouldn’t brush off everything that’s happened to him, but he snaps it close. Steve doesn’t want to talk about it. That’s okay. If drawing helps him, Tony can give him that. He nods. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d kill for some ice cream. What do you say, Captain? I’ll even let you have whipped cream.”

(It’s safe to say Steve has a major sweet tooth; he explained it’s due to never having the money or the stomach for sweets growing up. Tony thinks that’s just an excuse for him to eat as much ice cream as he can stomach.)

 

Natasha is glaring at him. The second she walked in Pepper’s office, she was glaring at Tony. Just Tony. Anytime Pepper speaks to her, she smiles and puts on a friendly persona. The second Pepper’s back is turned, however, she’s giving Tony the death glare.

He’s honestly worried for his safety at this point.

“Sounds great, Pep,” he says abruptly. “Can’t wait to see how this goes.”

Pepper sighs but nods. “Okay, I get it. Go, Tony. I can handle everything.”

He’s on his feet, halfway out the office when he hears Natasha excuse herself. He walks faster, hoping and praying she gets lost or confused or—and there she is, slamming him into a door.

“What are you up too?” she demands.

Tony blinks innocently. “Me? Who says I’m up to something? I’m never up to anything. Can’t a man play with his toys in peace?”

Natasha grabs his arm, twists a little. “I’m not playing, Stark. We know you went on a trip a couple weeks ago.”

“Oh, so now a guy can’t take a vacation without it being a matter of national security. Great. I’ll keep that in mind. Does it apply to just me or Pepper too? We should let her know. She goes on a lot of business trips. What about Happy? I’m not sure—”

Natasha slaps him lightly. “Stark, we know you asked about vibranium.”

“Oh, that? Please, that’s for nostalgia. One of Howard’s unfinished projects. Unfortunately, he had an affair with vibranium. Captain America’s shield and now this.” He shakes his head. “Dear old Dad likes to make my life hell even from the grave.”

“You’re lying.”

“Would I lie to you? Really? Do I look stupid? No, don’t answer that, we both know your answer. All I’m saying is I’m working on a side project. Nothing for SHIELD to worry about. I’m not going to take over the world.”

She’s still glaring at him.

Tony slips from her grasp—and he is fully aware it’s only because she let him—and throws over his shoulder, “Tell Fury I don’t need a babysitter.”

Maybe he is stupid if he thinks Natasha would let him just walk away. No, she sticks to his side, silent. He can feel her eyes on him. He tries to ignore her, but she whirls in front of him, crossing her arms. He leans his head back, groaning. “Oh, this is torture. Aren’t you technically still Pepper’s assistant? Shouldn’t you be with her, doing whatever assistants do?”

“Listen close, Stark.” She even pokes at his chest for good measure. “If you’re hiding something, if we find out you’re hiding something, things won’t go well for you.”

“You say that like my life doesn’t suck already. I don’t know if you recall, but we met because I was dying. Can I go now? That project isn’t gonna build itself.” He steps around her, glancing cautiously over his shoulder to make sure she isn’t following him. She’s still glaring. When he gets in his car, he pats at his chest, making sure her glares can’t actually burn holes in a person.

This is great, though. SHIELD doesn’t know. Tony can do this on his terms (and Steve’s). He doesn’t have to worry about Fury finding Steve and shoving him out in the field without making sure he’s really ready.

Speaking of which.

Steve’s watching Looney Tunes when Tony walks in. Tony’s been showing up movies and shows he’s missed, and Steve seems particularly drawn to cartoons. He loves Disney movies, all the old and new ones, and more often than not, Tony finds him watching Looney Tunes or Tom and Jerry.

“Hey, so I got something for you.” Tony leans over the back of the couch. Steve, chocolate chip cookie shoved in his mouth, takes the paper Tony’s waving in his face.

It’s a name and a phone number.

“I’ve never been in the military,” Tony explains, coming around to sit beside him on the couch. “While I’ve had my own experiences, I don’t really know what you’re going through. So.” He taps the paper. “I found this guy from the VA—the, uh, Veterans Affairs—if you wanted someone to talk to. You don’t have to. You can throw this away and forget this ever happened. But just. If you wanted someone who understands what you went through, then.” Tony shrugs. “Just a thought. Your choice. Hey, any cookies left?”

Steve’s back to watching Looney Tunes when Tony comes back. He’s munching on his cookies, giggling at the TV, and that’s all they do for a while. Until Steve nudges Tony. “Thanks,” he says.

 

Sam Wilson is not impressed with Tony. Sam Wilson is utterly confused by Tony’s phone call, puts up a fight about taking a trip to New York for a “matter of national security”, and it’s only when Tony says he’s got a friend that needs someone to talk to that Wilson sighs and relents.

In New York, Sam Wilson doesn’t fuck around. “Why not find someone from New York?”

“I hear you’re the best,” Tony replies. “And this is a…sensitive topic. Here.” He hands him a stack of papers. “Sign these, please.”

Sam’s eyes widen as he flips through the papers. “Do I need a lawyer?”

“No. Well, if you want one, sure, but this is just a standard non-disclosure agreement. You know, you say anything to anybody and I sue. That kind of thing.”

“This must be some friend.”

“Yeah, well, when you meet him, you’ll understand. So. Are you in or not? Because I can have you on a plane back to D.C. in an hour if that’s what you want.”

Sam signs the papers. He doesn’t look happy about it, but he does. Tony doesn’t plan on actually suing, but he’d rather not take any chances.

Tony wonders if he should warn the poor guy before he meets Captain America, but part of him thinks it’ll be easier for Steve if Sam doesn’t know.

Steve’s standing nervously in the living room, tugging at his button down shirt. “Hi,” he says when he sees them. “Um, I’m Steve.”

“Sam.”

Tony claps his hands. “Alright, well this is absolutely delightful. I’ll get out of your hair. Cap, you know where to find me if you need me. Wilson, don’t break the guy in the first session, huh?”

Tony goes down to his workshop. He’s still working on the shield, making sure it’s the best it can be. He isn’t sure how long he’s working, only that his phone beeps with a text at some point.

Steve’s telling him they’re going to get some coffee and lunch. (And, yes, Steve does have and understand how a cell phone works; he was already smart, but the serum just enhanced that.)

A while later, when Tony’s shoved the shield aside to work on his own suit, he glances up to see Steve standing awkwardly by the door, a paper bag in hand. “Hey,” he says, setting his tools down. “How’d it go?”

“Great. Um. Here. I got you a muffin.” He places the bag on the table, steps back, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Thanks, Cap.”

“Sam said he’s here for a couple days.”

“That was the deal, yes.”

Steve’s nodding. “We’re going for a run tomorrow morning.” He shuffles his feet. “Thank you, Tony. For—for everything.”

Tony knows what he means, but he chooses to instead address the Sam thing. It’s easier and less sappy for them both if he does. “I’m glad it’s working out with Sam.”

Steve gives him a half smile. “Enjoy your muffin.” He disappears as fast as he appeared, leaving Tony blinking at the space he was. Well that was…weird and enlightening.

He’s glad Steve and Sam are getting along. He hopes Steve is talking about his issues with Sam. He hopes Steve’s getting the help he deserves.

Sam spends a week in New York. He and Steve go run every morning and then spend most of the day out in the city. Tony doesn’t ask what they do or what they talk about, and Steve doesn’t tell him. That’s okay. Because each time, Steve comes back looking lighter. When Sunday comes, Sam already on a flight back to D.C., Tony asks, “You’re going to keep talking to him, right?”

Steve nods. “I have a weekly phone session. Sam says he’s afraid I’ll regress if I don’t call him once a week.”

“Good. Hey, I finished your shield. We can take it to the gym and let you go crazy.”

For a while, Steve seems better. More settled. Tony buys him a motorcycle, so Steve now spends a lot of his time driving around. Sometimes he tells Tony where’s he going, sometimes he disappears and comes back hours later. Once, he comes back with red rimmed eyes. Tony doesn’t comment, just makes him a sundae (Tony has never seen someone eat ice cream so sadly before).

Sometimes Tony finds Steve awake in the middle of the night drawing. Steve draws during the day, too, draws everything from Tony’s bots to New York to cartoons he’s watched, and he always shows Tony whenever Tony asks. But at night, those drawings Tony never sees. He asked once, just an off-handed comment, but Steve quickly changed the subject. Tony hasn’t pushed, no matter how curious he gets.

One night, after Tony’s defeated an enemy, he finds Steve in the living room, sketchbook in his lap, TV on the news. They’re showing footage of Iron Man.

Steve looks at him, blue eyes wide. “I can help,” he says.

Tony shakes his head. “I know, Cap, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle myself. See?” He points at the screen where Iron Man takes the guy out. “No, Captain America deserves something better than this low-level crime, right?”

Steve takes his pencil, adds something to the page in front of him, before he rips the page out. He holds it out for Tony. “I can’t—I don’t have any money. And I know this isn’t much, it isn’t anything, but—”

He’s still talking, but Tony isn’t listening. He’s staring down at the paper, where Steve’s drawn Iron Man flying through the New York streets. It’s beautiful. It’s amazing. It’s—

Tony marches to the kitchen, listening to Steve stutter, and digs through the drawers until he finds the tape. He goes back to the living room. “We’re going to frame it,” he declares. “Tomorrow, we’ll go buy one.” He sticks the paper to the wall, tapes the edges.

“Tony, you don’t have to.”

“Shut up, Cap. This is mine now. I can do whatever I want with it, and I want to frame it. What else do you have? We should hang everything up. Oh, hey, that’s a great idea. Pepper’s always telling me I need to be more cultured. This will shut her up.”

Steve blinks at him. “Oh. Um. If. We can. I mean. Really?”

“No, this won’t really shut her up. She likes to talk. Or, well, she likes to tell me what to do. It’s why she’s my CEO. Your work, though? Yes, really. We can hang them all up. Do you see all this empty space? It needs art to fill it.” He claps his hands. “Chop, chop, Rogers. Go get them.”

(Tomorrow, Tony and Steve buy a total of twelve new picture frames.)

 

Tony almost has a heart attack when he finds Natasha sitting in his living room. He’s just come home from a SI meeting, Steve off on a run according to JARVIS, and he’s tugging his tie off when the lights flicker on.

Natasha imbeds her knife in his coffee table. “Pepper says you’re acting strange,” she greets. “Even for you.”

“I take offense to that.”

“Of course you do.” She gets to her feet, and not for the first time, Tony thinks about how beautiful she is. How, years ago, he’d actually go after her despite her ability to kill him with her pinky.

Natasha moves around Tony, stopping in front of Steve’s drawings on the wall. “These are new,” she comments, running a finger along the edge. “Where’d you get them?”

“Some up and coming artist. Why are you here? I know it’s not because Pepper thinks I’m acting weird.”

“Fury asked me to check in.” She moves to the next picture, the one of Iron Man. “Cute. Your ego knows no bounds.”

Tony huffs. “I appreciate his concern, but I’m an adult. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Be happy he didn’t send Coulson.”

“Oh, and where’s my favorite suit this time?”

“That’s classified.” She pokes something on the picture, squinting.

And that’s when the elevator doors open, Steve bouncing out. He’s sweaty, t-shirt clinging to his chest, face flushed, and the biggest smile on his face until he sees Natasha.

She throws Tony a look over her shoulder before she throws on her nicest smile. “Oh, Tony. You didn’t tell me you had company.”

“Because I didn’t know _you_ were going to be here,” Tony snaps.

She hums. “Well aren’t you a pretty thing. I’m sure you’ve heard nothing about me since Tony likes to keep pretty things like you all to himself. Oh, well. I’m Natalie.”

Tony’s sure if Steve blushes any more he’ll pop. His face is almost unnaturally red.

“Um, hi? I’m Steve.”

“Steve?” She points to the drawings. “SR?” she guesses.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re very talented, Steve. I can see why Tony wanted your drawings.”

Steve’s mouth opens and closes a couple times before he clears his throat. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Have we met before, Steve? You seem awfully familiar.”

Steve glances over her shoulder. Tony hopes his shrug conveys that it’s up to Steve on his response. If he wants to tell her or not. Steve must understand because he answers, “No, ma’am. I’d remember someone as beautiful as you.” His blush is back. “I’m just gonna. Um. It was nice to meet you, Natalie.” He wheels around, marching back to the elevator. As soon as he’s gone, Natasha whirls around to face Tony, who’s more or less confused as to what just happened.

“Who is that? Is that why you’re acting weird? Because you have a boyfriend?”

Tony blinks at her. Okay. He can work with this. This is perfect. Fake boyfriend gets SHIELD off his back. And unless Natasha goes digging in Steve’s past, there’s no reason for her to connect him to a long dead national hero. “Yes,” he says slowly. “That is Steve. My boyfriend.”

Natasha goes to pick her knife up. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Don’t you have some little spy games to be playing or something? Aren’t there other billionaires you can bug?”

She doesn’t answer, just throws him the I’m-watching-you gesture before leaving. Tony sighs, wondering how much longer he can keep Steve out of the spotlight. He falls back on the couch, lying a hand over his eyes, and there he lies, letting his thoughts run wild, until he hears Steve come back.

He spreads his fingers, peeking through the cracks to watch Steve sit on the coffee table in front of him.

“Who was that? Your girlfriend?”

Tony snorts, letting his hand drop. “God, no. Her name’s Natasha Romanoff. She works for SHIELD. I told you about them, remember?”

“I remember. Peggy helped found them.”

Tony nods. “Well, she’s my unofficial babysitter. The head of SHIELD, Nick Fury, sent her to watch over me.” At Steve’s confused look, he sighs, sits up. “I told you about the reactor.” He waits for Steve’s nod. “Okay, well, a few months the palladium in the reactor was killing me. No, don’t give me that look. I’m fine now. I found a new element, made a better reactor. Totally not dying now. _Anyway_ , I went on a downward spiral, and, well, Natasha was sent in to make sure I didn’t actually get myself killed.”

Steve doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “You’re okay, right? Really?”

“Perfect. Here look.” Tony shrugs his jacket off, unbuttoning his shirt. He doesn’t think about what he’s doing until he’s already shoving his undershirt up. He taps the reactor. “See? Good as new.”

Steve reaches out to touch, like he can’t help himself, and when he catches himself, he blushes, hand dropping.

“I don’t mind,” Tony tells him, trying to will his heart to slow down. Honestly. Here’s this gorgeous man trying, _wanting_ , to touch Tony. He thinks he might die. And when Steve does touch, tracing his fingers over the reactor like it’s one of his drawings, Tony knows this is how he dies.

“Can I ask you a question?” Steve whispers, finally pulling away. He rubs at the back of his neck nervously.

Tony lets his shirt drop, buttoning his shirt back. “Go for it, Cap.”

“I know...I mean. I asked JARVIS, but I wanted your opinion.”

Tony gestures for him to continue.

“Is, um. Homosexuals. JARVIS said they’re allowed to marry now. That’s true, right?”

That was about the last thing Tony expected, so he kind of gapes stupidly at Steve. And when Steve starts muttering things like “forget I asked”, “it was stupid, I’m sorry”, Tony’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist. “It’s legal now,” he says. “There are still people who think it’s a sin, but it’s okay now. Are you. You don’t have to tell me, but I won’t judge you. I’m bi. Uh, bisexual. I like both. Guys and girls.”

“I don’t know. Maybe? When I was younger, I was in love with Bucky, but then I met Peggy and.” He shakes his head. “She was something else. I loved her, too.”

“Did Bucky love you back?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. I never told him, and he really loved the dames. Uh, girls, I mean. No, he was pretty happy to find out about Peggy.”

“Well, are you attracted to either? You have to notice when you go out.”

Steve’s blushing again. “Yeah. There’s this guy. He’s real handsome.”

Tony doesn’t like the way his heart stutters. He definitely doesn’t like the feeling of jealousy sweep through him. Steve is his friend. He should be happy Steve’s going out, exploring this new world. He should be happy for Steve. Yet all he wants is to lock him away and keep him to himself.

Natasha was right. Tony is selfish when it comes to pretty things.

“That’s great, Cap. You deserve a little happiness in your life.” And because he wants this conversation to end, he says, “Hey, why didn’t you Natasha who you were?”

“Oh. I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I didn’t want you to get in trouble. There’s a reason you didn’t tell SHIELD, right?” Another shrug. “I was just following your lead.”

“You can. I know you want to get back into the field as Captain America again. You should. Sam says you’re doing better, and, no, before you ask, he hasn’t told me anything you’ve talked about.”

“I want to be Captain America again,” Steve says firmly. “But I want to be with you, too.”

What the fuck is Tony supposed to say to that? Steve can’t _say_ shit like that. Tony’s this close to lunging forward and kissing the hell out this stupid man. He falls back on the couch, instead, throwing his arm over his face again. “Great,” he says. “I want you here, too. Hey, you wanna go see some art? New York’s got some great galleries.”

“You don’t like art.”

“Who told you that? I love art. I love looking at art. I think it’s wonderful.”

“Tony.”

“I don’t like art. I don’t have an eye for it. But you do. And if that’s what you want to do, then that’s what you’ll do.” He nods firmly, dropping his arm to meet Steve’s eyes. “Want to?”

“That sounds amazing, Tony. I’d love to go.” His smile is sweet and shy, and seriously. This is how Tony’s going to die. Death by Steve Roger’s sweet smile.

What a way to go.

A few days later, Tony’s standing in the living room, debating going for a drink, tugging at his sleeves. He’s used to people dressed to the nines, but this is Steve. He has no idea what Steve looks like in a suit. Going on the way his ass looks in his Captain America suit, Tony thinks his heart will give out if he sees Steve in tailored suit pants.

Tony freezes when he sees Steve.

Steve who’s wearing a nice, pressed button-down shirt that shows off his stupid biceps. Steve who’s wearing black tailored pants that define that perfect, wonderful ass. Steve who’s nervously smoothing down his tie. Steve who’s saying, “Is this okay? Not enough? Too much? I never really dressed up before. Only for church.”

“It’s great. Really. You look. Great.” Tony messes with his watch. “We should go. I want to make sure you have time to look at whatever you want.”

“Are we going somewhere after?”

“Just to dinner. You’ll like it, I promise. Come on. It’ll be fun.” Tony can’t help himself. He’s _weak_. As they’re walking, Tony presses his hand to Steve’s back, as if to guide him, and Steve doesn’t say anything, so Tony doesn’t drop his hand. Who can blame him? Steve is really warm and solid and strong.

Anyone who’s ever met Tony knows he isn’t great with self-control.

 

They’re eating ice cream, sitting on a park bench, Steve content and happy, Tony flipping through his emails as they sit in comfortable silence, when Steve blurts out, “Is this a date?”

Tony chokes on his ice cream. “Fuck, you gotta warn a guy, Rogers.”

Steve shrugs, licking at his ice cream.

“Um. This could be considered a date, but usually the participants agree to call it a date beforehand.”

“Oh.”

Tony glances at him. He looks…well, he doesn’t look as happy as he was a minute ago. “Did you—do you want this to be a—a date?”

Another shrug.

“Okay, no, you have to use your words, Cap. Let me start. If I had my way, this would be a date. This would be the first of many dates. Because you are amazing, Steve. But if this is a date, I could do better than this. Do you like Paris? Or Rome? Or Somewhere tropical? Where do you want to go?”

Steve leans over and kisses him gently. He tastes like cherry vanilla ice cream. He pulls away after a second, goes back to licking his ice cream cone.

Tony blinks at him. “Um.”

“This was perfect, Tony,” Steve tells him.

They sit in silence again, and, when they’re leaving, walking back home, Tony can’t help but reach over and lace his fingers with Steve’s. He peeks out of the corner of his eye, sees Steve’s happy little smile. “Can I ask you something?” he asks.

Steve nods.

“Was that your first ever kiss?”

“Oh, fuck off!” Steve shoves at him, but he’s laughing. “I’ve been kissed plenty of times before!”

“Let me amend that then. Was that your first kiss since you’ve been unfrozen?”

A beat. Then, “Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t. I’m just curious. Have to make sure I beat all the competition.”

Steve doesn’t answer his question, turning the conversation to the art instead. But when they’re home, inside away from prying eyes, Steve kisses him again, just as soft and gentle as the first. When he pulls back, he whispers, “You’re the only one that matters, Tony.”

Wait, what? “Wait, what?”

But Steve, giggling, is leaving already, heading for the elevators. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“What does that mean? Have you kissed other people from this century? Steve, baby, come on!”

Steve tosses a wave over his shoulder, grinning cheekily as the elevator doors slide closed. Tony stares in disbelief because _what the fuck_. Who was Steve kissing? Not that it matters, like he said, but still. Now his curiosity is piqued. He isn’t going to let this go.

(Sure enough, the next morning, Tony holds Steve’s breakfast hostage until he starts talking.)

(The answer is no one. Steve hasn’t kissed anyone since he woke up. He just wanted to fuck with Tony.)

 

“Here.”

Tony finds Steve’s sketchbook shoved under his nose. He looks up, eyebrow raised. “I’ve seen this before,” he says slowly. “We have your drawings hanging up in the hall.”

“You wanted to know what I draw that you don’t see,” Steve says, sitting down beside Tony. He slides the book in front of him. “So here.”

Tony rests a hand on top of the book but doesn’t open it. “Steve, I love your drawings, but this is yours. You don’t have to show me anything. This is how you cope. It’s okay if you never show me.”

“I want to.” Steve nudges the book. He’s not looking at Tony.

Tony slowly opens the book. The first thing he sees is a smiling Peggy staring up at him. As he flips through the pages, he sees more of Steve’s past. Bucky, the Commandos, Sarah Rogers, old Brooklyn buildings. Then the drawings change. First, it’s Iron Man. Then it’s Tony working on the suit. Then just Tony. There’s pages of Tony, a couple even dedicated just to the reactor.

Tony’s heart clenches. “Oh, babe. This is—wow.”

Steve still doesn’t look at him.

“This is what you’ve been drawing? These are beautiful, Steve. And I’m not just saying that because it’s me.” Steve cracks a small smile, and Tony bumps their shoulders together. “There we go. There’s that smile.” He leans over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” he whispers against his cheek.

“You’re the only person I’ve shown these to,” Steve tells him. “I told Sam I draw when I’m upset, but I’ve never shown him. He thinks it’s healthy that I have an outlet.”

“He’s a smart man.” Tony grins, closing the book. “If you want, you can keep these between us. _Or_ we can hang some up. Just me. I don’t want any competition. Can’t have anyone prettier than me hanging around. Except you, of course. You should do a self-portrait. We need your pretty face hanging up so I can stare at it while you’re gone.”

Steve snorts.

“I’m serious. I’ll commission a piece. Right here, right now. I will pay you in…six brownies if you draw a self-portrait for me.”

“I don’t think brownies are a legal form of money, Tony.”

“Eight.”

“What if I don’t want brownies?”

“Eight brownies and four sundaes whenever you want. Even if you wake me up at three in the morning for it.”

“What if I want cookies?”

“Well, now you’re just being ridiculous.”

Steve laughs. He kisses Tony, though, and Tony’s almost forgotten about the whole thing because _Steve’s kissing him_ until Steve says, “Eight brownies, four sundaes, and eight cookies. Take it or leave it.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Captain Rogers, but I think I can spare that.”

Days later, a drawing of Steve finds itself hanging in Tony’s bedroom. Tony, every time he sees it, likes to point out that while it’s not the real thing, it’s a nice thing to have to look at when the real thing’s away. Steve, every time Tony mentions it, turns red and tries to hide his face.  

 

Tony thought the reveal would be some overdramatic shit. He thought some major world crisis would happen that would reveal Captain America is very much alive. He’s not entirely wrong. It’s a crisis, yes, but it’s nothing major. In fact, Tony could have easily handled it himself, but Steve basically begs to go with him (that’s Tony’s story; Steve claims he was not begging, thank you very much), and Tony’s never been able to deny Steve anything.

So Iron Man and Captain America go out in the field together. They work well together. It’s all the sparring and training they’ve been doing together, Tony knows, and it’s paying off. They cover each other’s back, and honestly, Tony finds it kind of hot that Steve’s so badass.

He really wants to go home and put Steve’s adrenaline to better, more _pleasurable_ use.

Of course that’s when Natasha comes into play. They have the situation handled, for the most part, so Natasha mostly helps clear out the last of the robots. When they’re done, Tony flying around to make sure they didn’t miss anything, JARVIS alerts him to a danger directed at Steve. He looks down, sees Natasha holding a gun to Steve’s head, and zooms that way. He lands between them, shoving her gun away.

“What the fuck, Stark? Who is this? Why is he dressed as Captain America?”

“I can explain.” He looks back, sees Steve give him a reassuring nod, and adds, “I want to talk to Fury, too. Just so I don’t have to explain multiple times. That’s a lot of wasted time. Time I could be using to build something. Hey, Cap, what would you say if I named a project after you?”

“Now is not the time, Tony,” Steve snaps. He sounds hopped up still, like he could go another five or six rounds. Part of Tony thinks he’ll risk Natasha’s wrath to kidnap Steve and fly him back home.

An hour later, Tony and Steve are in Fury’s office, Coulson and Natasha on either side of the man’s desk. Tony’s out of the armor while Steve’s just pulled the cowl off. His shield is by his feet, his hand gripping it tight as if SHIELD might try to take it from him.

 “Let me get this straight,” Fury says. “You found Captain America in the ice eight months ago, and you’ve been what? Playing house with a lost war hero?”

“He’s not lost,” Tony argues. “He’s sitting right there.”

Fury glares at him. “Mr. Stark, why did you not come to us straight away? We could have helped him.”

“Tony helped me,” Steve cuts in. “He’s shown me everything, and he introduced me to a therapist. Director Fury, I don’t think anyone here could’ve helped me better than Tony.”

“That doesn’t excuse this, Captain Rogers. We could have—”

“He gave me this suit,” Steve interrupts. He taps the shield. “And he improved my shield. Director, Tony didn’t do anything wrong. He’s a good man. He was doing what he thought was best for me, and right now, I can see why he thought that. Can you tell me, honestly, that you would have told me the truth about everything?”

Fury doesn’t say anything, just stares at him.

Tony isn’t sure how much more of this he can take. His heart is literally going to fucking burst from how much he admires and cares about this man. God, he really wants to kiss him right now. Screw the others, he thinks. He reaches over to squeeze Steve’s hand in thanks.

Steve squeezes back without taking his Captain America glare off Fury.

“No, Captain Rogers. I can’t tell you what we would have done,” Fury finally replies.

Steve nods firmly. “Are we done here? We just fought off an army of robots, and I’m starving. Tony, can we get those burgers again? Oh, and milkshakes. I could eat about ten of them right now.”

“Yeah, babe. Just give me a minute.” Steve seems wary, but he stands, taking his shield and holding it close to his chest as he goes, throwing one last glare Fury’s way before he shuts the door behind him.

Fury’s raising an eyebrow at him. “Well, this is an interesting development.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. First, is Coulson okay? He looks like he’s having a stroke.”

Coulson, as composed as usual, mouths “taser” at Tony.

“Never mind. Look, Fury, I made a decision, and I don’t regret it. I didn’t think Steve needed SHIELD. I still don’t. But Steve had nothing to do with it. Don’t take this out on him because I’m selfish. He _is_ Captain America. Even after being frozen for seventy years, he still lives up to the title. I’ll talk to him. See if he wants to be part of this officially.”

“Oh you’ll talk to him? Because you have such good things to say about SHIELD.”

“You don’t trust me. That’s okay. I don’t trust you. Steve won’t either. But the world needs Captain America whether he’s with SHIELD or solo. Keep that in mind.” Tony gets to his feet. “I’ll talk to Steve,” he repeats. “I make no promises about what _he_ chooses to do.”

Steve, waiting outside, jumps to Tony. “Is everything okay?” he asks.

Tony grabs his hand, smiling. “You’re hot when you’re mad, you know that?”

“Tony!”

“I refuse to apologize. It’s the truth. But we can talk about that later. Come on.” He wiggles his fingers, smiling stupidly when Steve takes his hand. “Let’s go change and eat. We can talk over dinner. I know you’re probably about to waste away.”

 

**Epilogue**

“Wait, where are we going? Tony, wait!” Steve’s laughing, though. He’s not putting up much of a fight. He’s not putting up any fight, actually, following Tony willingly and happily. He follows Tony out of the ballroom, into a darkened hallway.

Tony spins, gives Steve a dirty kiss. He smirks at the small whine Steve releases when they part. He gives Steve a gentle shove. “Move it, hot stuff. We have a short window before someone notices we’re gone.”

Steve laughs again, letting himself be pushed into an empty room. As soon as the door’s closed, Tony’s on him again, kissing him, running his hands all over his body. He backs Steve up, feeling until he finds a flat surface. He breaks the kiss, breathes, “Hop up, honey.”

Steve sits on the table, reeling Tony in between his legs. He grabs hold of Tony’s jacket, pulling him in for another kiss. Tony rests an arm on the table behind him, letting his other hand slip underneath Steve’s jacket. He snaps his suspender, chuckling at the way Steve jumps.

“Fuck, I want you,” Tony mumbles, dipping his head to suck at Steve’s neck.

Steve hums, running his fingers through Tony’s hair. He sighs happily when Tony bites down, shifting so he’s laying backward, pulling Tony down on top of him. This is wonderful. Tony is absolutely down to fuck him right here. In fact, his hand’s fumbling at Steve’s buttons, his other hand shoving his suspenders off his shoulders one at a time.

The door opens. “Found them!” a voice calls. “Hey, assholes. It’s time to cut the cake.”

Tony glares at Bucky. “Little busy, Robocop.”

Bucky sticks his tongue out. “Hurry up or we’re sending Nat.” He bounces away, already yelling to Natasha.

Tony looks back at Steve, ready to go head and fuck with the door wide open, but Steve’s looking apologetic. “Oh, baby, _no_. We can have cake literally whenever we want.”

“We can have sex whenever we want, too.” He kisses Tony, but this kiss is a distraction. He kisses Tony as he pushes him back, as he straightens his suspenders and buttons his shirt. He stands, breaking the kiss. “Cake, Tony,” he says seriously.

Tony sighs. “At some point, we’re going to have an intervention about your affair with food. I’m starting to feel like a third wheel. Sam’s with me. He says it’s unhealthy.”

Steve hums, throwing an arm over Tony’s shoulders, steering him out of the room. “We’re going to eat cake,” he says, “and then later you can fuck me however many times you want.”

Tony pauses. “Really?”

“Yeah. You keep saying you want to see how many times I can come in one night. Why not tonight?”

“God, I love you. You are the best husband ever. Seriously. You won’t regret this. Steve, baby, honey, dear, it’s going to be so worth it. I will make it so good for you.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Another kiss. “But cake first.”

The crowd—just the Avengers and friends—cheer when they reenter the ballroom. Clint and Bucky are standing awfully close to the cake, Clint’s hand raised almost as if he was about to drag a finger through the icing.

Natasha slaps his hand away as she approaches the cake. “Here,” she says, handing Steve a knife. “Please cut this damn thing, so these monsters can eat. Children,” she huffs.

Clint and Bucky both flip her off.

Sam brushes by Steve, whispering, “Bro, you missed a button.”

Steve’s head jerks down, blushing. Sure enough, not only did he miss a button, his shirt’s untucked and wrinkled. He smooths a hand over it.

“Get your own husband, Wilson,” Tony says. “This perfect specimen is taken.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you’re stupidly in love. We get it. We want _cake_. Come _on_!”

Later, after the cake’s cut and Steve’s convinced him to hang out a little longer with their friends, Tony sits on a couch, snuggled up to Steve. Steve’s been drinking some of Thor’s liquor, so he’s pleasantly buzzed, head resting on Tony’s shoulder, their hands clasped. Their friends are all laughing, telling story after story about anything. Bucky and Sam swap stories about how often Steve gets into fights. Clint’s telling Thor all about his weirdest missions. Natasha and Rhodey and Pepper are comparing their Tony stories.

Later, after everything, Tony lies in bed, wide awake despite the alcohol and the long day, staring at a passed out Steve. Nothing happened, really. Steve got drunker as the night went on, as did Tony, and by the time they crashed in bed, they had enough energy to exchange lazy handjobs before Steve fell asleep. Tony dozed for a bit, but he’s awake now. He reaches out, runs his fingers over Steve’s face.

Steve snuffles, rolling over, burying his face into his pillow.

Tony puts his arm around his waist, tugs him up to him. He grabs his hand, his thumb running over Steve’s ring. Tony wanted to buy the most outrageous, gaudiest ring he could find, but Pepper and Sam talked him down to something simpler but just as beautiful. Steve loved it.

It looks even more beautiful now, resting on Steve’s finger.

Tony snuggles close to him, kissing his bare shoulder. He mumbles a good night, an I love you, and he smiles when he hears Steve slur out his own I love you.


End file.
